


if i should ask you why

by Rigil_Kentauris



Category: Fire Emblem Heroes, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses, Fire Emblem: The Sacred Stones
Genre: Crossover, Gen, POV Third Person, bylad, byleth that doesnt talk much, heroes!Lyon, if the summary doesnt surprise you then the fic wont either, lyon getting moony eyed over magic, no three houses spoilers beyond literally i think the first two minutes of the game?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-19
Updated: 2019-09-19
Packaged: 2020-10-24 05:03:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20700383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rigil_Kentauris/pseuds/Rigil_Kentauris
Summary: A stranger is summoned to Askr. A stranger with a strangely familiar power over time.If only Lyon could remember...-tumblr prompt: lyon and byleth meeting each other in askr and lyon realizing the spell he worked so hard for, even gave his life for, works. that it finally works and not only that, is being used to save lives and protect and defend and all the things he'd hoped it would do





	if i should ask you why

**Author's Note:**

> i mean. im calling it a prompt but it was my prompt, from myself, _to_ myself so. uhhhhhhhh. ignore the writer behind the curtain please
> 
> im not editing this any further im hungy and its breakfast time

It’s an extraordinary day in Askr, but then again, so is every day in Askr. He’s here, he’s alive, he’s happy and he’s at peace. He feels like it may be the first time in his life he’s felt tranquility at all. Yes, there are parts of his memory missing. Maybe no one says it, but he can tell. Can see it in the looks Kiran gives him from time to time. Can feel it in the nightmares he can only hold onto for a moment after waking up. And, when enemy upon enemy is rushing too close in him in battle, he can feel things slip away from him. When he returns to himself, there is a field of the dead around him and he’s got now idea why, or how.

These missing pieces should bother him, but…

Eirika. Ephraim. They’re here too, and they both seem to know what memories Lyon lives without. And…it doesn’t matter to them. With soft and gentle voices they tell him not to concern himself with it any further. It doesn’t matter anymore.

He is here.

Every day is perfect. And…

And then, suddenly…

It’s not.

The day is an extraordinary day, which means it happens quickly. Kiran is screaming – a scream that is called their Super Special Happy Scream, according to the Princess Sharena. So, Lyon looks up and over his shoulder. A small motion.

Waves slam into him. Waves of, of, of gravity, of magic, of pain and dizziness and magic, magic, magic. Deep, impossibly heavy magic. Unseen unheard unrepentant magic. Everywhere, alive, dying, dead, he gasps and collapses on his knees.

Standing beside Kiran is the source of all this power. The newest summon.

Green hair. Black armor. A blank expression. He’s nothing special.

A black hole. A white star. Ripples of _matter _coursing from his form. He’s everything special that’s ever been.

Lyon lets out a small, pained cry. The pain of looking at the summon surges through Lyon’s head and leaves starbursts spiking through his tear-clouded vision. Distantly, he realizes Kiran has stopped happy-screaming, has started fear-screaming, has started running. The summon is moving too, running in Kiran’s footsteps. Lyon’s world roils. He can’t fathom how anyone is standing. He can’t understand how anyone is breathing. He’s not. Oh god, he’s not breathing, is he? He chokes on an attempt to suck in air.

Kiran’s there, suddenly. They hook an arm under Lyon’s shoulder and haul him to his feet. The summon reaches out a hand too, with horrible power swirling at his fingertips, and that, that, Lyon thinks, may just kill him.

_Stop,_ he tries to say.

“Y- you…!” he stutters, instead.

The summon furrows his brow slightly, and cocks his head. His hand stays its motion.

“Lyon!” Kiran squeaks, with a tremble of fear. It’s the tone Kiran gets when they are thinking about whatever memories Lyon is missing_._ “Are you alright?”

“I…” he says. “I…”

In the distance, Eirika and Ephraim are approaching, too. Ephraim at a dead run, Eirika on her steed. They, too, wear a carefully concealed fear of the lost part of himself.

Something ugly knots heavily in his stomach. For this moment only, he can tell why his friends are so afraid of him. It’s ugly, and fierce, and sharp and overwhelmingly earth-shakingly powerful. It squeezes around his heart, a heavy talon. His pulse is mud-heavy and blood-thick. A weight that promises him – _I can make your world better._

He smiles.

Oh, how he smiles. 

There’s no chance he’ll accept the offer. Because even further behind that sinking darkness, something more illustrious cracks.

He remembers.

He remembers _everything, _and the pieces fall into place, and he _sees. _Truly sees, for the first time.

“You…!” he says again, tone laden with wonder. The pain is gone, now. He recognizes the waves for what they are. They're ripples, ripples of time. The same ripples he once knew how to read by heart. Knew how to ride with them, how to _bend_ with them.

He remembers everything.

The summon’s eyes widen a fraction. The power of time hums and consolidates around them. It takes Lyon’s breath away, again. The ripples that they cast. The power that they use. He can see it all. He’s never had so much to look at in his life. He can read every piece of time, every part of the summon’s world. He sees them, the paths the summon had taken. The paths they’d rewound and redid. Every person they’d watched die, and every person they’d saved from that fate. Their use of time magic floors Lyon. It’s all for…for protection. For defense. For love. For life, for stories, for goodness and help and aid and _love._

“You did it,” he breathes. “The spell. _Time._ You can use it.”

Kiran shifts their failing grasp on Lyon and makes some confused comment, but most of Lyon’s attention is locked on the stream of fates dissipating from the summon’s form. The single, slight person who had figured out how to use time itself.

The other part of Lyon’s attention is waking up to the figure hovering unseen behind the summon. A small girl, a faint, green-haired figure that hovers, unseen, at the summon's back.

It’s too much. The beauty, the majesty.

The extraordinary days of time.

The summon doesn’t look confused. It doesn’t show in his blank, blank eyes, but it does in the magic that gathers around him.

For a moment, Lyon’s world hangs on a thin edge. Then the summon hesitates. His magic stills, and he nods.

Lyon is dizzy. Oh, he is dizzy, but today is extraordinary.

“Thank you,” he says, one last time, before the effort of resisting the massive presence of power is too much, and he lets himself fall into the soft embrace of sleep against Kiran’s side.

**Author's Note:**

> me writing this casually: nice  
my brain, halting me in my tracks: actually what if the other way around, sacred stones was the far future SEQUEL to three houses  
me:  
me:  
me: [mailroom conspiracy meme.png](https://summoner-kentauris.tumblr.com/post/187808703211/things-thus-far)


End file.
